Servant Of Capture: No Longer Living
by chibinekogirl101
Summary: When Sportacus Net arrived at Yzal Town, threatening to take control, she didn't take him seriously. Alternate AU! WARNING: Child Abuse, Rape, Paedophilia


**WARNING: Child Abuse, Rape, Pedophelia and other fun stuff :D**

I'm no longer living. I mean that in the metaphorical sense of the word. To live is to feel a large range of emotions, ranging from pure bliss to total despair. To understand the difference between good and evil, right and wrong, yin and yang. To feel accomplished and understand both winning, and losing… That's not who I am anymore. Not since Sportacus Net arrived. After he showed up here in Yzal Town with a tall ebony companion beside him, I brushed him off as a joke. He couldn't take control of everyone living within the confines of the town's walls surely. I was hit with reality a lot harder that I care to admit. I remember what happened in such detail...

He had captured my Uncle, and stripped him of his free will. I was angry and scared, so I charged. Once he grabbed me in a grip that drew blood I was made aware of how strong he truly is. Crushing my arm, he dragged me to a bedroom and plopped me down on the sheets. Next I knew that man was on top of me, straddling me. I tried to struggle but it proved futile.

"My my what a naughty little girl." His voice was venom. Acid to my ears, and he was leaning so close I could feel his breath. I was, for the first time in my short life, genuinely scared for my safety, or lack thereof. He grinned at my helplessness, pure white fangs gleaming in the light from the ajar window. When people talk about their first kiss, they always speak of a spark, a connection, I was aware you only kiss those you love from the depth of your heart, and I often dreamed of who was going to be _my_ first kiss. So, once that horrible adult forced his lips onto mine, roughly, biting me and drawing blood, I couldn't help but to scream into his mouth as his rough ruthless hands began to strip me of my yellow attire. His skin was rough as he scratched my thighs as he moved. I wanted to get out but I was trapped. I felt that forgotton droplet of blood run from my cut lip down my chin, and I shivered in horror.

"Well you're a pretty little one aren't you~" He cooed with a voice so sweet it made me feel sick. He's naked, and I don't remember him removing his items of clothing what-so-ever, and this fact only serves to frighten me more so. His hands were grabbing me in places that no one touched before; and it hurt. His grip was tight, and I could feel more of my blood seeping through his strong horrid fingers. He positioned his penis in front of my 'special area', and I immediately knew what his intentions were.

_He wants to put that inside me._

And he plunged. No warning. No preparation. He penetrated me without any concern for my screams for him to stop. I think he enjoys my suffering. He moved without hesitation or patience. It hurt, words would do no justice in describe my immense torture. One of his hands moved to grip my short pink hair, pulling roughly and irregularly. There was no rhythm, no harmony to what he's doing to me, no concern for my well being. Sometimes, he would punch my body in random areas, grinning as he did so, and I knew this adult was pure evil. I was being tainted, stained, and I knew there's no going back now. Never again. Not after something as traumatising as this. Tears are leaking from my wet hazel eyes that ran down my face. He, again, gave no heed to my suffering as he came, filling me with his filth, again with lack of warning. He pulled out roughly and immediately began to dress, making his way to the door before turning to me one last time for that night.

"You had better get used to that, my pet, for you and everyone else belong to me now." With an evil grin, cold blue eyes, a swish of his brunette hair, and he flipped off. Leaving me. Once I managed to stand once more, I felt some fluids run down my bare legs. Blood and semen. I horrid combination. I limped into the attached bathroom and began to clean myself of the torment that just took place. I finally dressed and lay back on the bed, allowing my eyes to close but the thought of sleep only kept me awake. I remembered when people around me used to say,

"_You have so much life ahead of you."_

And now I realized just how wrong they had all been. As time went on, the beating of my new 'master' only got worse. And once he began to use his baseball bat, littered with nails embedded into the blood-soaked wood, I knew I would die by his hand one day.

My name is Stephanie Meanswell, I'm 8 years old, and I am no longer living.


End file.
